


Head Ache

by thisisnotwhatihadplanned



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Early Days, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 11:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20965616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisnotwhatihadplanned/pseuds/thisisnotwhatihadplanned
Summary: Thank you for reading!





	Head Ache

Oil makes Tyler's hair heavy and slick. Josh still runs his fingers through the soft strands. It doesn't gross him out. 

Stagnant and soggy. That's what summer is made of. Tyler wraps his arms tighter around his knees. 

He looks so small. Tyler looks so small on nights like these. Tyler looks small at night. 

Josh's left eye hurts, a tension headache caused by staring at the road for too long without sleep. 

Tyler has a headache too. A head ache. Sometimes things get too much for him and everything seems like it's about to fall out of his arms and he can't take a break but he wants-needs- to take a break from everything except he's been lectured by parents and therapists since he was sixteen not to use those words because it's close to suicidal ideation and that gets him into the Summerfeild Day Program where he breathes in cleanliness and silence and things are stark white. 

Tyler hates silence. Hates stillness.

Josh understands. Things get too much for him too. His 'too much' is filled with noise. Noise and loud heartbeats and body heat that won't move and flushed cheeks and nausea and stomachs turning and people staring at him because he's twenty two he should be able to call room service why can't he call room service this is why no one wanted him on vacation and now he's on the side of the bed with his sister who counts 4, 7, 8 with no judgement. 

Tyler makes no conversation because of his head ache but he moves toward Josh. People are good. No isolation. Not if he can help it. 

It's much easier to isolate yoursef on a bus with four other people than you think. Everyone's tired, no one minds each other's weird moods. It gives Tyler's brain a chance to lose it's footing. To fall through the cracks. 

His focus has been bad lately. Can't remember room numbers or what Mark said at lunch. Why that reference was so funny. What the reference was. Eating gets harder too. On his fourth meal, a pack of sandwich crackers, Josh wants to say something. 

He wants to tell his friend to eat a real meal. Not four packs of crackers a day because it's easier to taste the same thing every time. He needs someone to take away his restlessness and replace it with a good night of sleep. At least one. At this point Josh would be happy with five hours. 

They're at a festival, an afterparty of sorts. What it's called or where they are is too much for Tyler's depressed brain to recall. He digs his nails into his hand. 

Get out. 

So he does. The people are suffocating him and he can't smile anymore. The gap between what he knows is healthy and his actual thoughts is growing. 

Josh follows. He knows this because he's the only one Josh knows in that little party. The other guys are somewhere else, he doesn't know. 

And now he's a horrible friend because he shouldn't leave Josh alone in front of so many strangers. Josh hates it. Josh was just getting comfortable enough to make a few remarks, let his sense of humor show, and Tyler ruined it by being sulky. God, he's doing it right now. 

"Hey Tyler."

He wouldn't say it. Josh wouldn't tell Tyler off for being a sucky friend. He's kind. Too kind, and there's pressure behind Tyler's eyes. This is the instant that will make him cry about everything if he isn't careful. He forces himself to focus on the conversation. 

"Sorry for leaving you hanging up there."

"It's okay."

"No, I mean-it was- I shouldn't have done that." 

Josh just sighed.

"I get it, don't worry." 

"Okay." 

They both turned to watch the fields in front of them. Discarded beer bottles reflect the moonlight. 

Josh heard a yawn. 

"Rest."

"You too." Tyler turned back to the stars. Eyes open. 

"No. Rest."

They faced each other. Ragged breaths left Tyler's lungs. Josh just looked. 

Instead of crying, Tyler balled his fists up in Josh's shirt. 

It was strange this way with Tyler. Intimacy you didn't think was appropriate for the stage of friendship you were in. Then distance. What was average at a year of knowing each other? Not much about their situation was average, so Josh tucked Tyler's head under his chin. 

Tension was in every muscle of the two men-boys- that lay outside the ring of tents and equipment. It wasn't truly rest. 

But it was comfort for Josh, that he could just exist with another human being without anxiety biting at his lungs. And it was respite for Tyler, a tether to the world he belonged to. The world of real things-music, Josh's shirts, grass. 

"Rest."

"Okay."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
